


Crawl

by sophiabush



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2840825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiabush/pseuds/sophiabush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But somewhere along the way it never felt like enough—sometimes love is never enough.” </p><p>[AOS Exchange gift for andyouweremine on tumblr. Happy Holidays, Kris!]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crawl

**Author's Note:**

  * For [always_a_queen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/always_a_queen/gifts).



> So this is my Christmas gift to you Kris! I'm sorry it's terribly written. I'm actually embarrassed by how awful this is... It lacks quality in description and backstory. It's a lot of dialogue and not exactly what you asked for in your prompt. I honestly don't know where I was going with this, which is why I also made you that biospecialist gifset. I've been extremely ill and it was a struggle to find the energy to write so I did my best (I plan to go back and update this later when I start to get better and can find a good beta reader). Hopefully you won't hold it against me. 
> 
> Also on a side note I'm not sure if I'm ever going to finish The Good Kind. If I get enough interest/feedback and I start to get better I might try to finish it up. I've had no inspiration to write lately... - Kailey

**Title:**   _Crawl_

 **Category:**   _Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D._

 **Genre:**   _Romance_

 **Ship(s):**   _Jemma/Steve_ , _Jemma/Grant, Jemma/Skye_

 **Overall Rating:**   _Mature [TEEN]_

 **Word Count:**   _1,897_

 **Summary:**   _[AU]_ _“_ _But somewhere along the way it never felt like enough_ _—sometimes love is never enough._ _”_

**I**

**_-_ ** _i’m restless, sick inside -_

 

 

_2 days. 7 hours. 19 minutes. 23 seconds._

That’s how long she’s been parading around in her wedding dress.

The way it clings to her skin creates an illness in her, it shows by the paleness in her face, the blue shade of her lips, how it looks as if she hasn’t eaten in days—which she hasn’t—and there’s a stillness in her eyes that would set someone’s soul on fire. Desperately Jemma wants to rip it off and burn the damn thing.  

It’s like her body, or rather her heart, has a mind of its own and so the dress stays on.

It’s been 2 long, miserable, days in the same small café, in the same booth. She’s not moved an inch since she arrived except to take small sips of her tea. She doesn’t notice the way her hands shake when she does this.

No one makes a fuss about her being there. She’s glad. At this point she’s not sure she has the energy to stand on two legs without toppling over.

She has to remind herself that she’s in shock.

(And boy does she pray that it never wears off. She knows that it can only get worse before it can get better).

 

 

**~**

 

 

Jemma makes it to Skye’s place sometime around noon on the third day. And it’s like Skye’s got a six since because she’s pulling Jemma through the door before she can knock.

“Oh my god,” Skye says. “Where have you been? Everyone’s been out looking for you, Jemma.”

“I— I’m sorry,” she whispers.  She hasn’t even to begun to process what she’s done. Running out on her fiancée, at the altar, no less.

Jemma’s not sure how it happens but Skye has her arms wrapped around her and she’s got her face buried in her neck, sobbing helplessly over the only dream she ever had.

Steve had been her dream. And she let her dream—let _him_ —slip through her fingers.

“It’s going to be okay,” Skye murmurs into her hair. “I know it doesn’t feel like that now, but things will work out. They almost always do.”

“Almost, Skye. _Almost_ …”

Eventually they pull apart when a male figure walks through the front door.

“How was the wedding—,” he stops, a look of confusion forming over his face.

“Jemma, I’ve told you about my brother. Now you finally get to meet I-only-know-how-to-show-up-at-bad-times- _Grant_.”

Before she can say anything Skye already has a hand wrapped around his arm and is pulling him towards the kitchen.

 

 

**~**

 

 

Steve Rogers was everything a girl could want. He was charming, sweet, a little bashful at times, and highly intellectual. He had a way of making Jemma’s heart soar in ways she never thought possible.

It’s not that she didn’t love him, of course she did. She spent the better half of her childhood chasing after him.

Falling in love at sixteen was the most invigorating thing to ever happen to her.

He had been her first everything.

But somewhere along the way it never felt like enough— _sometimes love is never enough._

 

 

**~**

 

She’s startled when she feels someone plop down on the other side of the couch. Its Skye’s brother, Grant. He has this way of staring that it unsettles her, but by no means does she look away first. He has this expression in his eyes, like he wants to say something. Skye does it for him.

“Jemma, honey, I’m worried about you. You’ve been sitting on this couch for hours and you’ve been in that dress for days. You haven’t eaten, slept, or taken a shower. This isn’t like you and I know that you’re hurting but—“

“I can’t.”

“You can’t what?” It’s Grant who speaks this time.

“I can’t take off my dress. If I take it off it means it’s real. And I know it’s not like anyone died, but it feels like a part of me is missing.  I’ve only ever had you,” her eyes focus on Skye, “Fitz, and Steve. It’s been like that since my parents.” Her voice cracks a little. “Fitz is in a grave and I walked away from a ten year relationship with a man that’s been good to me. A man that I _love_. A part of me regrets it and another part of me knew it was the right thing to do. Now all that’s left is you, Skye. I love you, I do, but I’m grieving the only way I know how. You need to let me do that… so the dress stays on. If I take if off before I’m ready I’ll only get worse.”

She walks away from them both, she’s gotten good at turning her back at people, she thinks.

 

 

**~**

 

It takes Jemma a whole week to decide that she’s ready to take off her wedding dress. Perhaps it was her ratted hair, the way she was starting to smell, or the look of death upon her body that pushed her to acceptance. She doesn’t remember what the last straw was, only that she craves to be herself again.

She makes her way out of the spare room Skye and Grant had given her and walks ahead to the living room.

Grant is lying on the couch, reading glasses on, and a book in hand.

“Where’s Skye?” She asks.

He looks surprised to see her. “She’s not here. Do you need something?”

“Yes, actually. I’m afraid I can’t reach the zipper and I don’t think I have the energy to take this dress off on my own. I was hoping Skye would help me.” She hesitates, unsure if asking him to help is the right move. “Would you mind?”

Considering the fact he puts his book down and moves towards her, Jemma takes that as a silent yes.

She turns away from him as he places one hand on the small of her back and the other on the zipper. Grant’s fingers slightly graze her skin as he undoes the back, his arms holding her steady when her dress falls to her feet.

“Thank You,” she says calmly. Picking up her dress she heads to the nearest bathroom.

There’s something about the way his touch exhilarates her. Jemma recognizes this as the first sign of attraction. She wishes she’d never asked him for help, she should have never let him touch her.

That’s only one more reason to punish herself.

 

 

  **~**

 

She avoids Grant like the plague and she doesn’t think anyone notices until Skye comes barging in her room.

“Do you have a problem with my brother, Jemma?” She asks steadily.

She’s used to Skye’s erratic behavior by now, but she wasn’t expecting that. “No, not at all. Why do you ask?”

“Because Grant thinks he’s done something wrong. He believes you don’t like him.”

“I don’t hate Grant,” she states, her voice dripping with annoyance.

“Well, is it me then?” Skye sighs. “Because we haven’t spoken to one another since you got here. That was three weeks ago, Jem. Grant said you came out of your room once to take off your wedding gown, and while I’m proud of you, there are still things you’re not dealing with.” She gives her a pointed look.

“Skye, I’m not mad at you and I don’t hate you. I’m avoiding reality because I have no clue on what I’m supposed to do with myself.”

“I know it’s not my place, but as your friend I’m just going to say it.” Skye’sgives a little squeeze to her shoulder, “You’ve had three weeks to deal with the consequences of your actions, Jemma. Three weeks to grieve like you wanted. You left Steve at the altar, not the other way around. He calls morning, noon, and night for you. You get to be sad, but frankly I don’t have a lot of sympathy for you. I miss the girl who didn’t hurt the people she cared about. When is she coming back?”

Skye slams the door behind her.

_Jemma misses that girl too._

 

 

**~**

 

It takes Jemma two days to build up the courage to go home. Her old home, at least. Things are just as she left them and Steve is sitting on the couch, by the phone, with his head in his hands.

Jemma sits on the coffee table in front of him and he looks startled to see her.

“I didn’t hear you come in,” He says. “I’ve been trying to reach you.”

“I know,” She whispers. “I’ve been pretending you don’t exist. Eventually, a friend knocked some sense into me.”

He smiles slightly, there’s a sadness in his eyes, a sadness she caused him, and it’s like a slap to the face.

“I think,” she pauses to slip the engagement ring of her left ring finger, “this belongs to you.” She takes one of his hands and places it in his palm. “I’m going to be staying at Skye’s place for a while. Until you and I can figure things out. I—I hope we can fix things. And more importantly I want you to know I love you.”

He gently rests his forehead against her. “I love you too.”

She feels whole again.

 

 

**~**

 

Jemma’s nursing a bottle of wine on the patio when Skye walks out.

“Jemma, look, about the other day, I’m sorry for what I said.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” She speaks softly. “You were right. I needed that and you were a good friend by telling me the truth. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“What would you do without me?” Skye teases her.

It’s Jemma who embraces Skye this time.

 

 

**~**

 

 

It takes Jemma almost an hour to finish off her bottle of wine and even after it’s empty she still not drunk.

She knew she wouldn’t be. It’s the bitter after taste in her mouth that she likes.

“So that’s where the wine went.”

His voice has become familiar to her and yet each time he speaks it gets deeper, sexier.

“If you were looking for a glass, I hate to break it to you, but the bottle’s empty.” She smiles at him.

“I was looking for you actually,” he says. Grant slips into the chair beside her. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh, is that so?” Jemma laughs lightly, “The honest truth is I’m fine. Slightly buzzed, but I went to see Steve today… I feel lighter. Perhaps it’s the missing ring on my finger.” She looks down at her left ring finger.

She doesn’t think she’ll ever get used to not seeing her ring there. It had been his mother’s.

As she goes to stand, Jemma slips, giggling when she falls into Grants lap. “Okay. Maybe I am drunk. Which is weird because I never get drunk.”

Grant smiles, full teeth and all, and Jemma swears her heart skips a beat. “You’re very handsome when you smile, Grant. I like your smile.”

He chuckles as he slides an arm under her legs and another under her neck, picking her up ever so gently. “I like it when you smile too,” he says as he carries her to her room, placing her on the bed, and tucking her tenderly under the covers. “Goodnight Jemma.”

Her eyelids fall shut, but she can feel his lips against her forehead.

She dreams of _someday._


End file.
